A Day of Fuzz

Today is a fuzzy day. I have slept most poorly the past few nights – restless, active sleep. The kind of sleep characterized by almost physical recreation of the vivid and energetic dreams plaguing the mind. That situation does not bring rest and rejuvenation. Today, I woke at 4:00 am to my alarm clock – a behavior quite abnormal for me. I normally beat the alarm by at least an hour…

I made it to work, forgetting some papers I needed, my Prozac and my brain (I think I may have left that in the car and will check during my lunch break). Fortunately, today is movie day for my classes, and I am not required to function beyond hitting the “Play” button on the DVD player.

I do not like this scattered, untethered feeling. I am a fiend for focus. Sharply seeing, hearing and experiencing my surroundings, efficiently processing the stimuli and rapidly forming a response. Currently, I am as sharp as a squishy booger someone has wiped on the underside of the bedframe. I am not “sick,” as I am many days. I am just “not here.” An odd, vaguely inexcusable state between ill and well. Nothing is going to shake this, either. I will move through this day like a Zombie (and not the tall tantalizing cocktail) until I finally lie again in my bed to try to sleep.

On days like this, or days of illness, I hide. I avoid contact with humanity and huddle away from society. I arrived at school and, as quickly as I was able, retrieved my mail from my office mailbox. Didn’t want to walk through crowded halls and into a crowded front office. My lunch period today is without my every-other-day duty of study hall. I can stay in my cozy classroom (actually it is cold and damp today, which is adding to my off-centeredness) and avoid the sights, sounds and energies of mankind. When the final bell rings, I will make my way quickly home to shut the doors, close the curtains, lay on the couch and pull a blanket over my head and listen to the Food Channel on television. I will not answer the phone, I will not answer the door, I would have to be convinced to move in the event of a fire or nuclear disaster. My only foray from my couch will be to the refrigerator and to the bathroom. If I had a camper’s Lady J and an empty soda bottle, I could reduce my future activity by ½.

Or so I say. In truth, I will move through my day as normal, though more lethargically. I often fantasize about truly hermiting myself for a day – shriveling the size of my cave to the space of my living room and living my day as motionless as possible. But, that never comes to pass. I cannot, in memory, recall a day like that. No matter the degree of illness, the level of lethargy, the weakness of will, I always keep going. I go and go and go and go. Part of it is from necessity. As a single person, I am the only one to perform the day to day tasks that keep house and home together. Part of it though is something else. Something rather undefinable. Some days, I think my inability to truly “rest” is physically-based. I suspect some degree of hyperactivity. I actually feel better upright and in motion than I do sitting or lying down. Maybe it is the fact that sitting hurts my bony bottom. Maybe it is the amount of caffeine I consume in a given day. But I will stand and move around until my ankles swell rather than lay around and watch a favorite film.

Could it be a mental aberration? Is there some factor in me that rebels against inactivity? I also suspect this is the case. The question is why? Why am I so adamantly opposed to relaxation? When others are around, I can sometimes muster a relaxed attitude. I can sit, eat, drink, socialize, play a card game…even then, though, I am often found standing by the table around which the other sit, I am fidgeting and seat-dancing while the others enjoy the relaxing social experience. I always tend to suggest active social activities – shopping, walking, exploring, etc. I less often suggest anything involving limited motion. WHY?

Do I abhor inactivity because I equal it to laziness and I cannot tolerate laziness? Lazy people offend me utterly and I have not a kind word for them. Do I see inactivity as a sign of laziness in myself? Even when very deserved after a very hard, productive and active day? Am I worried that I am morphing into the type of individual I despise?

Do I abhor inactivity because I feel unproductive? I believe that it is part of the human condition to be productive. To do and grow each and every day. No task left undone, no skill unpracticed, no goal unreached, no knowledge unlearned. I feel that each day should be a quest to learn new things, build and develop new skills, produce and create. This, added to the day-to-day necessities of chores, work, etc. There should be a library of entries in the What I Did Today book. Is there, in me, a feeling of failure if time goes unmaximized? In San Diego, mornings were the hardest times. Nothing to do, nothing to create, nothing to produce. It was, in part, due to this that I purchased my new computer. It is very lightweight with a highly efficient built-in wireless capability. I am now prepared to carry it with me wherever I travel and have access to work and leisure activities. A tool to further my productivity, to fill unused time. But Why?

Do I abhor inactivity because it gives my subconscious the quiet it needs to be heard? Do I stay in motion so that I do not have to hear the sound of my own inner voice? I have several (not Prozac-generated). One yammers incessantly in a stream-of-consciousness diatribe. It comments on and journals my day. One is the rational brain that talks back to this yammerer to debate issues when a judgment is required. One, though, is an evil bastard. It speaks of nothing but the undone, the fears, the failures…this one tends to be drowned out by the continuous blithering of the yammerer and the yammerer only blithers in running commentary to my actions or in response to constant stimulation. Likely why I also hate silence of any form. Do I stay in motion to avoid hearing the evil bastard. To hear the list of things I am putting off doing in favor of others, to hear the examples of my failures and failings, to be reminded of unsavory deeds done by and to myself…do I move to stay positive, to stay confident, to retain my vision of myself as a good and competent person?

Who the heck knows? I sure don’t. All I know is that my teacher’s chair has yet to feel my bottom in the 9 years of my tenure, there is developing a dent in the floor adjacent to the kitchen cart on which my computer sits when I’m home. I know that I get very anxious on days where my agenda is not filled – when I have “down time.” I cannot exactly dislike this condition as it has allowed me to achieve more things in my life than a less-frenzied person. But, I cannot like this condition as it robs from me the ability to simply enjoy a quiet, peaceful, relaxing evening at home or with friends. I must begin researching this…I shall draw up a flow-chart for my action plan and begin gathering resources, sending out email inquires……………….